


Road to Nowhere

by Steefwaterbutter



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drama, Episode Tag, Gen, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Uncharted 2, just a bit of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-11 15:37:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19930432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steefwaterbutter/pseuds/Steefwaterbutter
Summary: A blizzard in the middle of nowhere. A train wreck. Three people who don't know exactly where they are going: the fallen, the rescuer, and the reporter. Three people who come together on the road to nowhere. Funny how life turns out sometimes.





	Road to Nowhere

**Author's Note:**

> I pretty much wrote this story back in 2016 just for kicks and giggles. I wasn't planning on posting it, and adding yet another fandom to my already very long list of fandoms I've written for, but good things seem to happen when I post fics like this, and I'm pretty darn happy with how it turned out.

Nate wasn't exactly sure why he was still stumbling along. There was nowhere to go, nothing he could see except a cloud of white. The wind and snow nipped at his hands and face, leaving them stinging. His feet were numb, and he could no longer feel the impact of his boots against the ground. But really, those discomforts were only a minor distraction from the pain that shot through his side at every step he took. He could feel the wet blood trickling all the way down from his side and seeping into his pants, his life's essence pumping out of him. His hands were dripping and sticky.

He couldn't stop looking over his shoulder, half-expecting to see the glimmering barrel of a gun pointing at his face. But there was no one but himself in this barren wasteland. Nothing to run from but death itself.

"You just had to be the _bloody hero,_ didn't you?" he snarled to himself, mimicking Chloe's accent. He just _had_ to try and rescue her. And now, it was he who needed to be rescued.

Sometimes it seemed everything he touched turned to crap. Pipes, trains, roofs... relationships. From the start, this whole stupid journey had crumbled at every turn. Flynn betray him, three months were spent brooding in jail, Jeff was killed, and now even Chloe had abandoned him. Here he was, lost and dying in the middle of nowhere with no one to come and save him.

"Please," he whispered. "Anyone, please."

Almost as soon as the words left his mouth a particularly wrenching agony jolted through his side.

Something hard and cold slammed into his body. It took him several seconds to realize he had fallen down. When he pressed his palms into the ground and tried to heave himself up, His arms shook and crumpled like pieces of paper.

_I can't give up... I can't... not now..._

Nate dragged himself forward, pushing his feet against the snow, but his strength was spent. A low moan escaped his throat, the sound lost in the howling of the wind.

_So... this is how I die,_ he thought, letting his head drop to the ground, letting the wind beat down on him, letting the cold embrace him. _After climb_ _ing so many buildings_ _, after fighting off who-knows-how-many of Lazarevic's thugs... I'm going to bleed out in the middle of nowhere._

_All because I tried to be a hero._

o

Tenzin wasn't quite sure where he was going. The only thing he knew was that his spirit was urging him onward, deeper into the whirling snow and ice. It was a prompting from the gods, some would say.

The Tibetan man leaned forward, pulling his hat over his eyes as the wind pushed at him, almost like a dog that was begging to be played with. Tenzin grunted and pushed his walking stick into the snow, taking another step forward. Most of the villagers had reacted to his quiet response on where he was going with concern, others with open mockery.

Only Schäfer had taken him seriously. After all, the man was only alive today because someone had felt that same calling many years ago, and followed it out of the village into the unforgiving wilderness of snow and ice.

Tenzin cast his eyes ahead and let out a muffled cry as his eyes fell upon a man lying in the snow not too far from him. For a second he simply stared, as the unknown man lifted his head wearily to meet Tenzin's eyes, then dropped it back into the snow with a groan.

Tenzin's hands trembled, and he took a slow breath. So, his journey had not been in vain after all.

He hastened forward and touched the man's shoulder, calling for him to wake up. The young man did not respond, though he was shivering badly. His breathing was jerky and uneven, and his hands were clutching at his side. His face was torn with cuts and his dark brown hair was covered in blood and snow. A strange sort of dagger was fastened to his hip, but Tenzin only glanced at it, more concerned with the large, scarlet stain on the young man's side, one that was growing steadily larger.

Tenzin slowly turned the young man onto his back, shaking his head in wonder. Who would have thought that a simple villager like himself would be called into the wilderness to save an unknown man's life?

He needed to to get this man back to the village immediately. There was no time to run back and get help. The wind pushed his hat back and so Tenzin pulled it back down again, before sliding his arms under the injured man's body. He took a short breath, then rose to his feet with a grunt. He had carried many loads before, but never one quite so precious, or heavy, as this.

With quick, sure steps he began walking back to the village, wondering all the while who this mysterious stranger was.

o

Elena wasn't quite sure where she was going. She kept one eye on the railroad tracks to the side of her, another on the map clutched in her sweaty hands. After Nate had jumped on the train and she and the jeep had been stopped by a cliff, she had been forced to turn around, and rely on a crudely drawn map of the area. Too bad they didn't have GPS signal in the middle of a jungle. Not that it would have helped a lot.

Speaking of which, the jungle was beginning to thin out now. Trees became more sparse, and mountains began to rise out of the ground, surrounding her. She spotted the train tracks on a high ledge above her and began looking for a ledge or path that would take her higher up the mountain.

As the air around her began to chill, she found her thoughts turning back to Jeff. Poor Jeff... he had been so excited when she asked him if he would be willing to accompany her on her quest to bring down Lazarevic. He had only started working with reporters a few months before and was seeking for something more thrilling than news on the local county fair.

Elena pushed down hard on the gas, revving the engine. The tires skidded, before finding a hold again, climbing higher up the mountain. She had done this to him. He could have fulfilled his dream, could have lived a long and prosperous life, but she just had to ask him to come along...

No. Elena gritted her teeth, swiping away a few stray tears. He had been well aware of the danger. Both she and Nate and tried their hardest to save him, with no thanks to Chloe. It was Lazarevic who pulled the trigger. It was Lazarevic who was going to pay.

o

Elena covered her mouth. Her stomach churned, and for a second she thought she would throw up. Bodies. She was surrounded by dead bodies, corpses.

Yes, they were Lazarevic's men, but they were still men. Very, very dead men.

It looked like some sort of train crash had occurred not too long ago. Cars lay on their sides or their backs, half-buried in snow, the doors slid open. Fires were smoldering every few feet, their red light matching the scarlet flecks of blood that stained the white snow.

Elena stepped forward with caution, her ears listening for any movement. Her hand rested on the pistol that hung at her belt, ready to grab if the need arose. The young reporter cast her eyes around the bodies, dreading what she might see, but, at the same time, unable to look away. If Nate was among them...

With every muscle tensed, the young journalist stepped through the battlefield, peering into cars, shuddering every time her eyes caught the gaze of another dead man.

She just got so... scared for him sometimes. The guy was just so reckless.

_He loves it,_ Elena thought, letting out a sigh, and watching her breath cloud in the air. _The shots, the bruises, the broken bones... he likes cheating death. But one of these time's death's going to figure out his trick, and end him. Like with Jeff._

It was part of why she had left him. It hurt her to see him so beaten and bruised, and yet ready to do it all again in a heartbeat. Elena loved the thrill of reporting in dangerous situations, but... that was different. In his world, it was kill or be killed.

None of the corpses matched Nate's strong tall figure. So then... where was he? Almost as soon as the thought crossed her mind, something caught Elena's eye. The young reporter leaned forward, brushing the tips of her fingers across the freezing cold snow. A small trail of red was leading away from the camp, towards a small rock wall, one that the jeep would not be able to climb. She would have to continue the trail on foot.

_Maybe I'm being to harsh on him,_ Elena thought, and she jogged back over the truck to grab her coat and map. _We really aren't that different when you think about it. Always trying to be the hero._

Taking a deep breath, Elena jumped up and pulled herself over the small ridge, hoping that she wasn't simply following a trail to nowhere.

o

The light was beginning to fade. Most of the storm clouds had been wiped away and Elena could see the red sun bending down to touch the horizon, flooding the clouds with pink. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight.

_I'd give almost anything to have my camera right now,_ Elena thought, closing her eyes as she faced the sun, her shadow stretching out behind her. _I'd better hurry, though. I don't want to be out here in the dark._

She pulled out the crumpled map for what seemed like the hundredth time, squinting against the sun. If she was reading it correctly, there was a small Tibetian village nearby. Perhaps they knew what happened to Nate.

Elena's boots tapped against the snow, her footsteps swift. After a few minutes, a light began glimmering on the horizon, wedged between several foothills. Elena's heartbeat thudded in her chest, and she began to run, the steady thumping of her boots the only sound in the vast stillness.

Twilight had fallen by the time she reached the village. The air was much warmer here, with grass on the ground instead of snow. Chickens squawked good-night to one another, and people were hanging lamps outside their doors or talking adamantly to each other in Tibetian.

Elena frowned, trying to remember the Tibetian she had studied. For a second it was nothing but meaningless noise, then she began to make out words.

_Injured... I don't know... Where?... Tenzin... badly hurt... foreigner..._

_Are they talking about Nate?_ Elena's stomach twisted, but she stepped forward, clearing her throat and calling out a greeting.

One of the men stepped forward, his brows furrowing as he cast a glance over her. "Greetings," he said in Tibetan. "What brings you to our village?"

Elena hesitated, straining to bring to mind all she studied. "I am... looking for my friend," she said, thinking about each word before forming them. "We got... lost from each other. He has... brown hair, American..." she fumbled, trying to think of how to describe him. _Arrogant, incredibly strong... a fallen hero._

The man nodded. "Follow me."

He led her to one of the houses, then ducked inside the door. Elena stepped inside after him, and gasped, placing a hand over her mouth.

Laying motionless on a small bed was Nate. A large patch of scarlet stained his shirt and his face was covered in blood and bruises. Kneeling next to him was a tall, strongly built man. A young girl, presumably his daughter, watched from where she was sitting on a stool, swinging her short legs back and forth.

"Oh, Nate," Elena whispered. Stepping as softly as if the floorboards might break underneath her, Elena made his way over to his side, kneeling down to run her fingers through his matted hair. "What did they do to you?"

"I found him collapsed in the snow, injured and near death," came the soft voice of the man next to her.

Elena nodded, her eyes still fixed on Nate as she continued to smooth his hair. "You saved his life. Th-thank you. What happened to him?"

The man pointed to his own side. "Shot. Our healer was able to remove the stop the bleeding, but he is very weak. He lost much blood."

Closing her eyes, Elena grabbed Nate's warm hand in her own and, feeling the life pulsing underneath his skin. _C'mon Nate. You can't give up, not now. We can't let Lazarevic win. And if it makes you feel any better..._

_You're more than a hero to me._

**Author's Note:**

> Tenzin is a beast. I didn't see any horses or dogs in the village, so I theorize he just carried Nate all the way back, LIKE A BOSS. ;)
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoyed my little one-shot. Don't forget to leave a comment on the way out!


End file.
